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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25462660">When Nations Collide: Book One, The Flame and The Wind</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyLifeNoJoke/pseuds/MyLifeNoJoke'>MyLifeNoJoke</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Avatar: Legend of Korra, Avatar: The Last Airbender</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Air Nomads (Avatar), Airbending &amp; Airbenders, Bloodbending (Avatar), Deception, Earth Kingdom (Avatar), Earthbending &amp; Earthbenders, F/M, Fire Nation (Avatar), Firebending &amp; Firebenders, Forgiveness, Inspired by Avatar: The Last Airbender, Justice, Lightningbending &amp; Lightningbenders (Avatar), M/M, Metalbending &amp; Metalbenders, Post-Avatar: The Legend of Korra, Secret Identity, Vigilantism, Water Tribe(s) (Avatar), Waterbending &amp; Waterbenders</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 10:33:29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>19,881</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25462660</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyLifeNoJoke/pseuds/MyLifeNoJoke</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>With the death of Avatar Korra, injustices against non-benders began to develop throughout the world. Though each nation developed plans to deal with the problem, not every nation was successful in diminishing the problem of oppression. Though the Earth Kingdom ended the oppression against non-benders, newfound oppression of benders came with the election of neo-Equalist Earth King Jun'ichi Takeda.  Talks of a coming civil war have spread internationally and fear for the spread of tension between benders and non-benders arose in the hearts of world leaders.</p><p>Though the United Republic of Nations vowed to abstain from involvement, United Forces General Masami could not stand idly by. Going against the orders of the president, General Masami outsources to an international bloodbending vigilante: The Sanguinare. Despite disobeying the outlaw on bloodbending, The Sanguinare uses his abilities as a master waterbender to exact justice against oppressive forces. Recruiting him as a peacekeeping force, General Masami tasks him with finding the new avatar--an Earthbender with great skill and talent--to end the civil war before it happens.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Akira/Zanyo, Makoto/Teruma</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Timely Matters: Part One</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I'm super excited to try and create this book as a continuation to the ATLA/LoK universe and I hope that each and every one of you who reads it grows to love and understand the characters that I've created. Feedback is always appreciated, both good and bad. Let me know what you like, dislike, what you want to see more of, and suggestions you may have. All of that feedback is extremely helpful and I appreciate it. So please, dive in and invest yourselves in this new story that I have set.</p><p>I will do my best to update regularly on here and keep the story rolling. I do plan on making at least two more books to make a series, so be prepared for when this book ends.</p><p>Other than that, thank you and enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A cool breeze blows through the well-lit Republic City night, chilling the skin of pedestrians, raising hairs on the backs of animals, and ruffling the feathers of birds and other flying creatures. Rain pitter-patters against rooftops and windows and sidewalks, suggesting that everyone should seek refuge inside. Everyone except The Sanguinare, who squats down on the rooftop of an apartment complex, watching as the dancing lights of the Runaway Casino light up the darkness of the streets. The young vigilante pulls out a map, depicting the layout of the casino, from his jacket pocket to assess the situation and make a plan for his mission: the apprehension of Airbender, businesswoman, and gang leader, Sayuri Hirayama. She is wanted on multiple counts including, but not limited to counterfeit printing of money, drug trafficking, sex trafficking, and first-degree murder. Her presence at the casino is for mere business, devoid of pleasure except for the excitement she derives from the acquisition of money. The owner's, Hisoka Tahara, rent is due, and Sayuri does not take late payments lightly.</p><p>Despite being a large piece of architecture laterally, the Runaway stands five floors tall: the first three make up the casino, the fourth is for security detail, and the fifth is for the administration. The casino itself is like a ladder: the higher the floor, the greater the risk, yet the greater the reward. Most people, especially average travelers, tourists, and citizens would reside on the first or if they wanted to test their luck, the second-floor. The third-floor, however, is mainly populated by the wealthy and occasionally the bourgeois. Only those with the biggest paychecks and the deepest pockets dared to test their luck on the third-floor. The security detail based on the fourth-floor, and scattered across the casino, consists of both benders and non-benders and is responsible for ensuring that the money, the patrons, and the employees are safe. The technical analysts stationed on the fourth-floor work in conjunction with the security staff on the floor to ensure that no crimes are committed through the use of CCTV cameras around the interior and exterior of the building. In such a case, they can immediately dispatch security to any location within the building with precision and ease. The top, fifth-floor provides a space for the owner and his constituents to focus on running the hotel, ensuring the building is stocked to the brim with any necessary supplies, food, gambling materials, and the like as well as directing the floors below them. Compartmentalizing the map in his mind, The Sanguinare goes on the prowl for his hunt.</p><p>The Sanguinare slides the raven hood of his jacket off of his smooth, scarlet full-face helmet as if to relieve some weight off his head as he moves closer to the casino, sliding down shingles, jumping from rooftop to rooftop, and pole swinging between streetlights with elegance and grace, finally landing on the rocky rooftop of the Runaway. The combined light of the full moon and the encompassing streetlamps make the golden building glimmer with radiance. The Sanguinare peers over the edge of the rooftop, spotting everyday people entering and leaving, some sporting fancy suits and dresses, others appearing disheveled, dazed, and confused from all the alcohol in their system. He grabs onto the ledge of the roof and proceeds down the window sills, unafraid of traversing down the building at such heights without gear; his conviction trumped his fear.</p><p>Reaching an open window on the top floor, The Sanguinare lets himself into a dark, empty service room, which seems oddly large to him. The room itself lays silent, but muffled banter, footsteps, and music sounds through the floor as the young vigilante readjusts his hood on his head and creeps around with a scrutinous eye despite the darkness; the moon is his flashlight. Electrical cables, zip ties, hammers, nails, and other tools and materials have been carefully sorted on shelves and in drawers by the service workers of the Runaway. Cleanliness, neatness, and hospitality are all held to the same degree as profits, even in the seclusion of a service room. <em>These shall do</em>, The Sanguinare thinks to himself, snagging some zip ties and putting them in his pockets, slightly jangling the throwing knives connected to his belt. As he searches for further supplies, the door to the service room opens, a cart with a broom, mop, spray bottles, and sponge entering with a young man and woman close behind, both not much older than The Sanguinare himself. The vigilante swiftly rolls behind a shelf to avoid detection, the banging of rain on the windows masking his sound as to not interrupt the conversation of the service workers.</p><p>"Who'd've thought such rich assholes could clog a shitter like that?" jokes the young woman. She plays with her hair a bit before putting her long, brown hair up into a bun. Turning on the dying lightbulb in the room, the woman's eyes reveal themselves to bear an emerald shade; her ancestry of the Earth Kingdom. </p><p>"Please, you haven't seen the half of it yet," the young man responds. The young man combs some black locks of curly hair ever so gently with his hand. His eyes bear a similar shade to the woman's, but the green encapsulates the yellow of his inner eye, like the green of the meadow surrounding the yellow of the prairie; he is of Fire Nation and Earth Kingdom descent. The young man is slim, yet strong enough to engage in manual labor for hours on end.</p><p><em>He's done this job for a long while. He knows the mundaneness of routine, and even the faintest of surprises are enough excitement for a lifetime.</em> The thought passes the vigilante's mind, almost distracting him from his mission. He lightly sighs to himself, thinking, <em>These two are none of my concern, but I can't let them get caught in the crossfire. </em>Calming his mind, The Sanguinare can feel the rush of blood, of water, of life, in the two workers. With his mere will, devoid of any accompanying hand motions, the blood in their bodies rushes away from their heads. They fall to the ground, unconscious in seconds, allowing the vigilante to slip out of his cover. <em>I can't just leave them there</em>, he thinks, searching the room for a hiding place, taking solace in an attic structure in the ceiling. Sticking the two workers in the hidden ceiling structure, The Sanguinare hesitates on the man, studying his face, feeling sorry for him. <em>You shouldn't have to work for someone you don't even know is plotting your downfall. No one deserves such a fate.</em></p><p>The masked vigilante peers out of the service room and, to his surprise, he finds no members of security. <em>Sayuri must have ordered Mister Tahara to disband his security detail from this level, a display of her dominance. </em>Disregarding the cameras, he dashes down the long carpeted hallway, which bears an ardent gold-crimson clash of colors with paintings strewn across depicting landscapes, historical art pieces, and previous owners of the Runaway until he reaches the Owner's Chamber. The door is marked with the impression of a dragon in the wood, creatures that man has not seen in decades, nearly centuries. Crouching down and pressing an ear against the door, voices could be heard from the other side.</p><p>"Your cut of the profits is more than fair at fifteen percent. Now can you please leave this office? I have a business to attend to that doesn't concern you," a male voice vehemently declares.</p><p>"Your business <em>is</em> my business," a female voice retorts, verbal frustration present. "You don't have the authority in this relationship. I do! I <em>own </em>you, and there isn't a damn thing you can do about it! I'm on a tight schedule, and if I'm not out of here in the next few minutes, my guards will know to storm their way up here and deal with the situation accordingly. I did not come here to negotiate. Give me my twenty percent cut and I will be on my merry way."</p><p>The man sighs and presumably considers the offer to keep the peace, but decides, "I'm sorry, Miss Hirayama, but I cannot do that. Taking a fifth of my business wouldn't leave enough funds for me to pay my employees adequately. They'll leave and move to other businesses."</p><p>"Then I shall follow them closely and take whatever businesses that employ them. Leaving you in the dust is the least of my worries. There's nowhere the Seraphs can't take with enough influence," Sayuri deduces. The Seraphs are the crime organization created by Sayuri Hirayama three years after the death of Avatar Korra. They've taken over areas across the United Republic and controlling various facilities by keeping the owners in financial debt to them. Physical force is not unbeknownst to the Seraphs, nor do they admonish such actions; if anything, they're encouraged if the outcome is in the Seraphs' favor. Sayuri Hirayama is the most feared crime boss in the United Republic, which has now become common knowledge to even the likes of tourists, traveling merchants, and members of the four elemental nations. "To be frank, Mister Tahara, on account of my lack of time tonight, I'll spare you the financial payment."</p><p>Relieved, Hisoka repeats, "Oh, thank you! Thank you! Thank you!"</p><p>"I wasn't finished," the woman coldly interrupts. "Due to your lack of fealty and your continuous lack of meeting the expectations I hold for all of my constituents, I'm going to have to kill you. It's a much more permanent form of payment that will make me richer than if I were to keep you around, once I find your replacement."</p><p>"No! Please!" Hisoka pleads. "Please, you don't have to do this!"</p><p>"You're right. I didn't have to do this. But you forced my hand by not doing your fucking job."</p><p>Closing his eyes, The Sanguinare allows his mind to slip past his surroundings and enter the inner machinations of his mind. <em>I know what will occur tonight: Sayuri will be brought to justice. But it is the how that is unbeknownst to me, as well as to what will occur once she is secured. Will a sea of Seraphs flow from the elevator and the stairwells, leaving me to drown in the anticipation of a swift death? Will Mister Tahara resound the reinforcements of this facility and apprehend both Sayuri and I, leaving us to rot in the cold metal confines of prison? Will I be able to keep Mister Tahara in this realm a little longer, escort Sayuri to the confinement she deserves, and ensure the safety of the innocent patrons of this facility? So many questions, so little time. I mustn't waste it.</em></p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Timely Matters: Part Two</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Raising himself from the ground, The Sanguinare straightens his posture, takes a deep breath, and thinks to himself: <em>I will not waver. I will not hold back. I will not show regret. I will exact justice. I will do what is necessary. I will do what is right.</em> Readying a throwing knife, he kicks open the door, drawing Sayuri's attention. Moments away from blasting Hisoka out of the large glass window behind the owner's desk, she redirects her movement toward the masked vigilante, sending a strong slash of air toward her newfound adversary. Sliding under the attack, The Saguinare dodges the attack and launches a volley of knives at Sayuri's marigold colored coat, pinning it against Hisoka's desk. The casino owner rises from his chair and bolts into the corner of the office, the short old man shuddering and shaking uncontrollably.</p><p>Standing up and approaching the gang leader, the young vigilante asks Sayuri, "Do you know who I am?"</p><p>"I don't give a fuck who you are," Sayuri begins, her pale face growing a red shade similar to her blush. "You look like one of those neo-Equalists that have been on my ass since I started this business."</p><p>"'Business'? You refer to your affairs as a 'business'?" The Sanguinare retorts, scoffing a bit at the Sayuri's apparent attempt to bluff. Turning his attention to a confused, unsettled Hisoka and pointing at a pinned down, indignant Sayuri Hirayama, he asks, "Would you consider yourself a valued member of this woman's 'business', Mister Tahara? Do you value your time working under her?" Hisoka blankly stares, his eyes wide and his body quivering. The stench of his fear lays thick in the room and The Sanguinare can smell it. Hisoka glances at Sayuri, unsure of what to say, of what he can say. Returning his gaze to The Sanguinare, he shakes his head, too afraid to speak. </p><p>Believing her adversary to be distracted, Sayuri uses what mobility she has to take advantage of the situation. With a swift motion of her arms, a chair flings toward The Sanguinare with violent speed, but the vigilante catches it, unfazed by the attack, and uses the momentum to swing it back at Sayuri. The wooden seat shatters against Sayuri's body, sending splinters into her skin and drawing blood from gashes and shallow cuts. She staggers in agony, every movement sending shivering pain and nerves throughout her body. Broken fragments of the chair lay strewn upon the desk, jagged pieces of wood and nails itching for a stab, waiting for the taste of flesh.</p><p>"Fuck!" Sayuri shrieks. "You little prick! My me-" Sayuri is interrupted by her torso abruptly, involuntarily reeling back onto the table, the jagged edges of nails and wood scraping, grazing at her skin. She shrieks in pain, Hisoka covering his ears in the effort to block out the pitchy scream.</p><p>"Your men are on their way, I'm aware."</p><p>"You must not be aware of what they're capable of," Sayuri chides, her voice strained from the pain. "My men were assassins for the neo-Equalists, originally sent to kill me. They were easily bought off, but I assure you they are no pushovers. I couldn't count the number of hits they've done for me. They're as deadly as they come."</p><p>"If that's the case," the masked vigilante explains as he forces Sayuri's body to contort and twist to his mind's desire, like a marionette moving to a puppeteer's will, "then we can save the formalities." He pauses, Sayuri's whines and moans filling in the silence. "Allow me to tell you a little story, Sayuri."</p><p>Reassuring Hisoka with a calm hand on his shoulder, The Sanguinare rounds the desk and positions himself directly above Sayuri, her head perpendicular to his torso.</p><p>"There once was a man that went by the name Amon. He was the creator of the original Equalists. He was fearless, driven, but his cause was unjust. He thought that the way to achieve equality was to rid the world of benders. And yet, he was secretly a bender. He was a hypocrite. And in a way, I am too."</p><p>He hovers his hand over Sayuri's midsection, feeling her blood rushing through the vessels of her body.</p><p>"Bloodbending is an outlawed bending form. Everyone thinks it died with Amon and Tarrlok, but they were wrong. It's still outlawed, and yet I still use it liberally. I break the law to exact the justice this world needs. It needs protection from people like you." The Sanguinare pauses, looking Sayuri in her gray, fearful eyes. "Bloodbending is strong when you know the human body, stronger when you can use it purely with your mind sans the full moon, but with the full moon? That's when it's at the epitome of its strength."</p><p>He moves his hand up towards her head, preparing himself for an irreversible decision.</p><p>"Sayuri Hirayama, it's time you faced justice. Justice for all of the people you have hurt and all of the people that you planned to hurt. The people of this world deserve to live without fear of people like you. And soon... you will be nothing but an afterthought."</p><p>Pressing his thumb against Sayuri's forehead, The Sanguinare can feel the chi flowing throughout Sayuri's entire body, through the veins of each of her chakras. And in an instant, the chi is expelled from her chakras, as if they died as a whole with no place for the chi to reside and channel through. He takes his finger off of Sayuri's forehead and her body goes limp, her level of consciousness shattered. The vigilante circles the desk and takes the knives out of Sayuri's coat and sheathes them, careful not to injure her any more than he already has. He lifts her body from the desk and positions her on her knees, zip-tying her arms and legs behind her back.</p><p>Hisoka musters the courage to escape the perceived safety of the corner and studies The Sanguinare, unsure of how to feel about what he witnessed. "You're just like that man. Amon. Y-you took her bending away, didn't you?"</p><p>The Sanguinare looks at Hisoka and nods. "It is what had to be done. Instead of helping the weak, people like her prey on them. Instead of serving others, people like her use their services to serve themselves. I'm sure she could have been an extravagant businesswoman, but she was controlled by wrath and greed, earthly matters renounced by the monks of the Air Nomads. She wasn't born an Airbender, but rather she was given the ability from the spiritual energy present in the world entering her and opening her air chakra. She was given the privilege to bend, and when all is said and done, people like her do not deserve the privilege of bending."</p><p>"And who are you to take that privilege away?" Hisoka asks, adjusting his glasses and crossing his arms. "That shouldn't suggest I'm not appreciative of you saving my life. I truly am, but if Amon was supposedly wrong in his approach to achieving equality, what makes your approach to achieving justice right?"</p><p>The masked vigilante pauses, pondering the question under his scarlet helmet. "Some say that laws were meant to be broken, and in a way they're right. I believe the law can be broken if it is in the name of good. Some laws have been made that restrict practices that could be used for good. In matters of law, perspective and interpretation are key elements in achieving proper justice." He pauses for a moment, keeping an eye on Hisoka, ensuring that the short businessman is listening. "The way I see it, the more the number of laws a society withholds, that society will exhibit less justice. I, good Mister Tahara, am merely remedying the dying virtue of justice by taking it into my own hands instead of leaving it up to chance with society."</p><p>The Sanguinare motions toward the broken entrance door, but takes care to mention to Hisoka, "Call the police and tell them that Sayuri is restrained here. They've been looking for her for quite some time. And mention that some people have been injured. I'm sure there will be some damage done when I meet these assassins."</p><p>He leaves the tiny old man to do as he was instructed and walks down the immaculate hallway, able to capture its beauty without disturbance, studying the paintings and sculptures of the past owners of the Runaway. <em>Such appreciation as demonstrated by Hisoka begs the question: would his predecessors be equally as beholden? This business of mine seldom breeds universal appreciation. But justice, no matter how just and right, goes often unappreciated. My mind is devoid of regret, as I do not seek appreciation. Be that as it may, it does bring some solace knowing my efforts are not in vain.</em></p><p>The ding of the elevator pulls The Sanguinare from the distraction of his thoughts, reminding him of Sayuri's assassins: the former neo-Equalists. Rolling behind cover, he peeks in the elevator's direction, preparing for trouble. He had studied Amon and the Equalists, aware of their level of expertise in combat, but unsure of how deadly they have become post-Amon's death. His wariness slightly quells when the elevator doors open to reveal no one in the car. Under the mask, his brow furrows, puzzled by the lack of assassins. Gathering water from the air and nearby vases, the masked vigilante fills the elevator with water and, with a single thought, freezes it. A large block of ice begins to weigh down the elevator, the whines of the straining metal cords resounding throughout the building. Verbal sounds of confusion resonate from above the elevator shaft, causing The Sanguinare to smirk: he was waiting for this to happen. </p><p>The metal cables reach their limit and snap, sending the elevator car hastening down the shaft, the masked vigilante not far behind. He nears the open elevator shaft door, peeking down the black abyss; though the Runaway's floors are few, they make up for it in height. From the darkness of the shaft dart three metal arrows, embedding themselves deep into the ceiling of the shaft, with rope tailing at the end of each arrow.</p><p>Knowing the assassins are climbing the rope, The Sanguinare jumps onto one and slides down it, kicking his opponent off of the rope. The assassin lands flat on his back, the cracking of his bones and his grunts of pain reverberating in the elevator shaft; the crash of the elevator, let alone the assassin's screams, don't disrupt the partying, gambling, and drinking, the sounds of which still ringing in the vigilante's ears. The Sanguinare lands safely on the top of the elevator car, looking up at the two remaining assassins sliding back down their respective ropes. The masked vigilante throws two knives, cutting the ropes. Taking water in the air, he catches the two falling assassins, guiding them down to the elevator car top and freezing them, immobilizing them. Instead of killing them, he uses his bloodbending to render them unconscious, just as he had done to the service workers.</p><p>He turns to the assassin with broken bones, staring at him, assessing him. The tight all-black outfit of the assassin has been tarnished by coughed up blood and the dust and filth of the elevator shaft. Though the assassin wails in pain, The Sanguinare remains stoic, considering what to with his vulnerable enemy. Finally deciding to open the hatch to the elevator car, where the mini glacier of ice still resides, he pulls some water from it, surrounding his hands with the cool liquid of life. He takes his hands and places them all over the assassin's body, slowly moving them across the entirety of the man.</p><p>"Wh-what the h-hell are you doing to m-me?" the assassin asks, nearly unable to talk.</p><p>"I'm healing you," The Sanguinare replies bluntly, preoccupied with tending to the man's wounds. The flow of chi within the assassin's body is continuously redirected to the different injuries. Healing isn't so much as healing the body as it is allowing the body the means to heal itself.</p><p>"Why? W-why haven't you killed me already?"</p><p>"Would you prefer to be dead?"</p><p>The assassin quickly shakes his head. "No, I don't. But w-what do you gain by l-letting me live?"</p><p>"Nothing," The Sanguinare admits. "Nothing at all. Quite frankly, I would gain more from parting you from this world than keeping you in it. But if I were to kill you or let you die of your injuries, that would make me a murderer. And I am not a murderer. Not anymore."</p><p>Quitely resuming his work, the masked vigilante can feel the life returning to the wounded man. He smiles under the mask, secretly glad the man will live, but the smile fades quickly, knowing he still has a job to do and that this man will be shown the justice that awaits him and his allies. </p><p>Rising from the man's body, The Sanguinare discloses to the assassin, "You will live. When the police get here, they'll get you the medical attention you need before they take you to jail. And if they don't, trust that I will know about it and deal with it."</p><p>"Those are some strong words," replies the assassin, his voice still straining in recovery.</p><p>"And I mean them, just like any other words that pass my lips. I see no reason to hold my tongue nor hold back the truth. If it's true that you and your companions have killed countless numbers of people, then I can assure you that none of you will see the light of day. Be that as it may, if the police do not give you the care you need or mistreat you in any way, I will make sure that it will never happen again."</p><p>"I've never heard of anyone who would do such a thing for someone like me," the assassin says thankfully. "Who are you?"</p><p>The Sanguinare returns to the ice in the elevator car and reverts it to water and with a stark upward motion of his hands, the water rises into a water spout leading back to the fourth floor. Before taking his leave, The Sanguinare answers the question:</p><p>"I am what this world needs. I am The Sanguinare. I am justice incarnate."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Timely Matters: Part Three</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Rising from the elevator shaft through the water spout, The Sanguinare leaves the Runaway through the same way he got in: the service room window. From the roof of the dazzling casino, The Sanguinare witnesses the police cars and ambulances rushing onto the scene, the hasty police officers and medical personnel filing into the Runaway, just as the vigilante planned. <em>I truly do hope that man gets the care he needs. Even a murderer like him deserves some semblance of nurture and care. I'm sure I would know something about that. </em>The Sanguinare's thoughts cause him to linger, sitting on the edge of the casino's roof. The sweet, moist, fresh air of rainy midnight fills his lungs, rich with success and satisfaction. Pleased with himself, he takes his leave; his job was done. The Sanguinare takes his leave, flipping, tumbling, and jumping from rooftop to rooftop, heading out of the Yutaka District, the wealthiest community out of the eight districts of the United Republic, comprising of benders and non-benders from each nation.</p><p>Eight districts make up the diverse population of the United Republic of Nations. Over time, the dynamics and culture of each elemental nation became exclusively prominent in different areas of the United Republic. In response, the people of those nations created four districts to represent them. The Hi District was formed by the Fire Nation; the Ea District was formed by the Air Nomads; the Mizu Nation was formed by the Northern and Southern Water tribes; the Diachi District was formed by the Earth Kingdom. These districts are not comprised strictly by members of the districts namesake, but they make up the majority of the population. The more integrated districts--the Hinjaku, Man'naka, Burujawa, and Yutaka DIstricts--are rather divided not by societal practices, but by economic status.</p><p>As The Sanguinare journies home, the prosperity of Yutaka glimmers with shades of gold, silver, and bronze, the grand, artistry of the architecture providing the district with a prominent aura of financial comfortability. Parks and pools and dance halls populate the space of the Yutaka district, providing room for those who live in or visit the district to do as they wish. The moon illuminates the metal exoskeletons of the towering buildings and the droplets of pouring rain performing a symphony for the people sauntering down sidewalks with umbrellas.</p><p>Continuing on his journey, The Sanguinare ventures to the outskirts of the Yutaka into its neighbor: the Man'naka District. The more modest community of Man'naka also houses a diverse population of benders and non-benders. Though less awe-inspiring than Yutaka, Man'naka makes up for it with its residents' hospitality and care, regardless of what district or nation visitors are from. The Sanguinare made Man'naka his home, regarding it as his haven, his escape from the harsh realities of the United Republic. Dropping down from a rooftop, he lands on a dark street, lit up only by the streetlights that occupy the sidewalks. A green sign with gold letters, lit by a few lawn lights, reads "Lingering Heights Apartments": The Sanguinare's home.</p><p>Navigating through the abundant number of buildings, he reaches Building Eight. Grabbing his keys and opening the door to the large stone and metal building, he makes his way to the second floor. Room 126 slowly comes into his view, its mailbox filled with a few envelopes. Taking the mail out of the box, the masked vigilante flourishes a key and opens the door to Room 126, revealing a liberal sized living room with a gray shag rug, pinewood coffee table and bookshelf, and a gray, plush couch. Closing the door, he kicks off his black knee-high combat boots, takes off his black leather biker jacket, and removes the scarlet full-face helmet. He places the envelopes from the mailbox with the rest of the envelopes in a small pile collecting over the past few days on the coffee table, all of which addressed to Makoto Hamasaki.</p><p>Stretching his muscles and letting out a hearty yawn, Makoto takes off his shirt, heading to the bathroom. Turning on the light, the mirror reveals the real Makoto hidden under the guise of The Sanguinare. Despite the action at the Runaway, no injuries tainted the delicate, soft tan skin of Makoto's toned, gymnast figure. He scratches at the taut muscles of his stomach and across his defined chest, mementos of the hard training of his teen years. He combs a hand through his long, dark russet hair, with waves like the ocean, as he stares at the bags under the heterochromatic blue-green eyes on his charming, attractive, yet modest face. Sleep has been evaded for five days by Makoto in search Sayuri Hirayama, and now the search is over.</p><p>"Justice is served," Makoto groggily announces to his reflection, the words originating more from his subconscious mind than by his own will. "Now time for some fucking sleep."</p><p>Exiting the bathroom, he enters his bedroom and undresses completely, throwing his sweaty clothes in a hamper that's filled to the brim. Makoto simply clothes himself with his favorite pair of black tights, a white rose print present on the outside of the legs. The flexible, soft fabric gently cradles every curve, groove, and muscle of his lower body, emphasizing his physique in more ways than one. Out of habit, Makoto stretches out his muscles, focusing on his back, shoulders, hips, groin, and glutes to remain lithe, agile, and graceful.</p><p>After stretching, Makoto climbs into bed, the blanket hugging him in an almost gentle motherly sense. A whistle passes his lips and from the corner of the room his deer dog, Emiko, reluctantly rises from her comfortable, plush dog bed. The stag-antlered canine jumps onto Makoto's bed, resting her body so her head is close to Makoto's hand, lightly licking it. The exhausted young man, with his eyes closed, rubs Emiko's head, brushing through her hair with a delicate, tired touch. Emiko whines and whimpers, as if to say that she misses her owner.</p><p>"I've missed you too, girl," Makoto admits, an apologetic tone present in his calm, currently drowsy voice. "Work gets in the way. You know how it is."</p><p>Makoto's head rubs slow to an eventual halt, his respirations--as well as Emiko's--relaxing, at peace with the serene pitter-patter of rain against the window. Soon, the two inhabitants of Lingering Heights drift off, falling asleep in the sweet solace of Room 126.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Out On The Town: Part One</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Emiko's persistent barks act as Makoto's alarm clock, jolting him awake from his peaceful state of slumber. He didn't dream last night, which means that there is no work to be done today. Appreciating the day off, Makoto weakly gets out of bed and heads to the kitchen, preparing an assortment of meat and vegetables to sate Emiko's omnivorous appetite. Emiko pants for the taste of the meal, the saliva from her tongue dripping with anticipation. Seemingly to the deer dog's satisfaction, Makoto places down Emiko's food and gives her a caring head rub.</p><p>Makoto decides to return to his bedroom to get dressed for the day; today is a day off for him, a momentous occasion after a successful apprehension the night prior. He throws on a skin-tight, yet flexible and breathable black long sleeve shirt that conceals most of the length of Makoto's torso, some of his tan skin and taut abdominals remaining uncovered. He complements it with a short sleeve cerulean midriff, a white rose print on it to match with his tights. Motioning over to a mirror hanging above his drawer of clothes, Makoto inserts an icicle earring into the piercing in his right ear lobe. Finally, donning on socks and his black, white-soled athletic shoes, Makoto grabs his wallet and keys and heads to exit his apartment. But the scurrying paws of Emiko follow him closely, her whines begging for Makoto not to leave.</p><p>"No, you can't come with me," Makoto says, lowering himself to Emiko's level and scratching behind Emiko's ears. "I'll be back in a little while, Emi."</p><p>Room 126 fades away as Makoto leaves his apartment on foot for Ichiba Town in the Daichi District, an eight-mile trip southeast of his residence in the Man'naka. The people have molded the district, socially and physiologically, to model the likeness of their homeland, the Earth Kingdom: buildings made from the earth below the feet of the district's occupants, manual labor being the primary source of work, and an overarching sense of being grounded and one with the world. The people strive to find new modes of innovation, utilizing the talents of earthbenders and metalbenders to ease the lives of workers and the district's residents.</p><p>Passerbys of Ichiba Town's grand shopping outlets, dwelling in the center of the town, can witness a variety of stores offering a selection of wares: groceries, books, clothing, furniture, and other assortments of necessities and luxuries. Approaching a lone tea shop, Makoto sighs with relief and enters the golden emerald ambiance of The Jasmine Dragon. Thick pillars of jade populate the stone floor of the tea shop, splitting up the various tables which were decorated with gold trim and art of a golden dragon residing in the center of it.</p><p>Though The Jasmine Dragon is the most popular tea shop in the United Republic, not many frequent it early on throughout the day. Sitting down at a table in the middle of the room, Makoto waits and takes in his surroundings, a grand portrait catching his eye. It depicts an old man with gray hair and a gray beard. He's bald on the top of his head and the long hair on the sides are pulled up into a bun. Makoto finds the portrait charming, the man's charismatic smile dispelling any sense of worry or strife; he feels at ease in the man's presence.</p><p>Looking around, Makoto notices a server cleaning one of the tables. She was so quiet that he wouldn't have noticed her if he hadn't started to scrutinize the various appeals of the shop. She cleans under napkin dispensers, sugar holders, and tiny milk pitchers, careful to not leave a single splotch of wasted tea or spilled milk to leave a stain on the pristine wood. Her slim yet athletic frame, however, easily dispels the table of the pools of mixed liquids.</p><p>The server is young with brown skin that glows in the light of the tea shop. Her long, dark brown--almost black--hair flows down her back but is partly put up in a neat bun to keep the hair out of her face. Part of her facial features are visible, her most notable being a beauty mark that resides on her left cheek and one of her dark sage eyes occasionally making itself seen while her face focuses on cleaning.</p><p>Finishing the table, the server admires her work and turns toward Makoto, blushing nervously. "Oh, I'm sorry! I-I didn't hear you come in." She stands some inches shorter than Makoto--if he were to stand--with a slightly muscular, yet petite frame. Her young, gentle face only reinforces her initial shyness as she eyes Makoto.</p><p>Makoto disarmingly waves his hands and reassures her, "No no. No worries. I didn't even know you were here at first. I must have passed you when I came in."</p><p>"Yeah," the server chuckles lightly, "I guess so." Looking down at the rag in her hand, she shakes her head at herself at says, "I'll be right back to take your order. I just gotta put all this stuff away." Makoto watches as the server retreats to the back of the shop with the cleaning supplies and returns wearing a neat, black apron and holding a notepad. "My name is Akira and I'll be your server today. What would you like to drink today?"</p><p>"I'll take a cup of green tea," Makoto orders.</p><p>"I'll be right on it," Akira promises, writing down the order in her notepad. "Lucky for you, I just put on a kettle of green tea made from green tea leaves grown right here in the Daichi District."</p><p>"Sounds wonderful!" Makoto exclaims, his face beaming with gratitude.</p><p>Akira smiles and escapes into the kitchen, leaving Makoto to sit by his lonesome in the uninhabited tea shop until she returns to the table. She carefully carries a white saucer with a white handleless cup, steaming with the fresh liquid, in one hand and the kettle in the other, placing both down before Makoto.</p><p>"Long day at work?" Akira asks, sitting down at the table across from Makoto. She places down her notepad next to her on the table as Makoto gingerly sips his tea.</p><p>Swallowing, the warm fluid passes down Makoto's throat. Though Akira's question brings up flashes of recollections from his occupation, Makoto asks her, unfazed at the memories, "Yeah... How could you tell?"</p><p>She shrugs, a small sense of pride radiating off of her. "Green tea helps with pain and inflammation. You learn a thing or two working in a tea shop for almost five years."</p><p>Nodding his head and sipping his tea, Makoto comments, "Entering the tea-making business must be all the rage." As he takes another sip, Makoto glances up at Akira's face, which rapidly grows more neutral.</p><p>"Not really... I just do this to help my cousin, Uzo, out. He actually owns the place," Akira reveals, shifting her weight to get comfortable. Makoto sees Akira's ambivalence when it comes to the tea shop, but notices a caring tone when she mentions her cousin. <em>She must love her cousin to hold such an occupation. A woman as young as she must have a vision for her life,</em> Makoto thinks to himself.</p><p>"I assume you have other dreams?" Makoto asks aloud, wording his thoughts as to not unduly intrude into Akira's personal life.</p><p>Vulnerability strikes Makoto as Akira's eyes meet his, but it is not Makoto that is afflicted. Akira's gaze grows slightly reserved, but show she isn't unwilling to answer Makoto's question. "Yes... I do." Her hands tighten into a fist on her thighs, not in anger, but wariness. Soon, they loosen, and Makoto takes a sip of his tea, waiting for Akira to continue to talk. "I... I want to go to Republic City.</p><p>Memories of the night before bombard Makoto's mind: The Runaway, Hisoka, Sayuri. Sayuri's widespread greed and abuse are what caught Makoto's attention, similar vices drawing him across the world to past victims of his hunt. And yet, a young, seemingly innocent woman before him wants to venture into the belly of the beast. Makoto chokes on his tea, air escaping his nostrils as he coughs in his mouth, careful to not spit the tea onto Akira's clean uniform. He grabs a napkin and covers his mouth before swallowing the tea and catching his breath. "Republic City?" he asks, shock reverberating in his voice. "Why would you want to go there?"</p><p>Akira blushes shyly once more, as if unprepared for Makoto's reaction. "Well, it's my dream to be a director. I love film! And some of the greatest films have come from none other than Republic City."</p><p>"But Republic City is filled with corruption and murder and scandal!" Makoto exclaims.</p><p>"Well, I'm sure there is some good in the city," Akira mumbles, just barely loud enough for Makoto to hear. She crosses her arms and averts her eyes from Makoto, but remains seated.</p><p>"Well, the bad usually outweighs the good," Makoto mumbles back, copying Akira's volume. He finishes his cup of tea and folds his arms in defiance of Akira's optimism. Rather, he favors what he views to be a more realistic look on life.</p><p>Silence ensues, soon evolving into a deafening quiet that resounds in the ears of both Akira and Makoto. Neither budge from their spot at the table, refusing to accept defeat in the stalemate of viewpoints. Looking back at Akira, Makoto's arms loosen from against his chest, softening at the sight of the product of his mistake. He just met Akira and was already making an enemy out of her. Sighing, Makoto apologizes:</p><p>"I'm sorry. I think we got off on the wrong foot. I didn't mean to squash your dreams right after meeting. Let's start over." He reaches a hand across the table and says, "Hi. I'm Makoto Hamasaki."</p><p>Looking back at Makoto, Akira looks down at his hand and then up at him, studying his face. Assumedly, she deems it worthy, smiling, and taking Makoto's hand in hers to shake. "A pleasure to meet you, Makoto. I'm Akira Fay." She rises from her spot and goes into the back of the shop to retrieve a cup identical to Makoto's. Sitting back down, she takes the kettle, pours herself a cup, and gives Makoto a refill. "You're not gonna finish all this yourself, so I might as well help you out."</p><p>The two clink their drinks and take a sip. Makoto chuckles a bit and jokes, "Don't you have a business to attend to?"</p><p>Sarcastically laughing back, Akira playfully retorts, with a smile, "Shut up! I did have to clean all of these tables before you got here. Maybe I'm a little sore too. Ever think of that?"</p><p>"That's fair," Makoto replies taking another long gulp of tea, the warmth of it filling his body with a soothing sense of serenity.</p><p>Noticing the two of them finished their drinks pretty quickly, Makoto fills both of their cups in preparation for the next round. Raising their drinks for another clink, a raspy, booming voice bellows the words "Hold it!" into the tea shop. A metal cable enters the shop and swiftly shatters the cups, the shards of glass nearly cutting Akira and Makoto's hands. Akira and Makoto watch the metal cable as it retracts to the dark silhouette of a bulky, solid person standing in the blinding light of the entrance. Stepping forward, the figure reveals itself to be wearing a black, gold, and grey police uniform, one specially made for the Republic City Police Chief.</p><p>The nameless figure quickly announces with a thunderous voice, "You're under arrest!"</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Out On The Town: Part Two</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>In an almost instinctual action, Makoto bends the tea from the kettle, phase shifting it into multiple ice kunai. Makoto gets low and throws the kunai, with deadly accuracy and speed, at the police officer's chest, aiming between the metal sheets of armor for the kunai to slip through.</p><p>"No! Makoto!" Akira yells, rising and stomping the ground with her foot. A five-foot stone pillar jolts from the ground, blocking the kunai from penetrating the unperturbed police officer, who stares daggers at Makoto. His gaze softens, however, when his eyes lay upon Akira, though she looks back with a solemn, fixed look. "Zanyo, you can't just do that!"</p><p>Makoto follows Zanyo's movements with a scrutinous eye as the officer walks over to Akira and hugs her from behind. Makoto's eyes meet Zanyo's, the young police chief's eyes bearing the same shade of green as Akira, but with a more aggressive presence. His wavy, black hair stretches long enough to partially cover his ears but doesn't go past his shoulders. Copulated with his young, attractive, symmetrically square face--and a firm body, sculpted through what appears to have been years of arduous training--Zanyo could easily make the hearts of many single women quake, and some men. Returning to the young tea server, Zanyo apologizes, "I'm sorry, Aki. I just wanted to surprise you, because... well... I got the job!"</p><p>"Wait! You're kidding!" Akira shouts as she turns around to face Zanyo, her pitch riddled with excitement and praise.</p><p>"Nope! You are looking at Republic City's new police chief!" Zanyo backs away from Akira and stretches his arms out to display his new uniform to her. He jokes, "Finally I don't have to wear that terrible helmet anymore."</p><p>"Oh, Zanyo, I'm so happy for you!" Akira leaps into Zanyo's arms and he effortlessly spins her around in a circle, careful not to hit any furniture.</p><p>By this point, Makoto feels invisible, as if he had just stumbled upon the conversation as opposed to already being there beforehand. Makoto looks back at the stone pillar Akira made, the frozen tea kunai remaining intact, piercing deeply into the rock. <em>Law enforcement</em>, Makoto thinks to himself as he phase shifts the frozen kunai back into liquid tea and into the kettle. <em>No wonder he didn't flinch. He must rarely be surprised due to his line of work. And considering he's been appointed to Chief of Police, he must be skilled in his profession.</em></p><p>"So, who is this?" Zanyo's bold voice pulls Makoto out of his thoughts. The officer, now chief, simply gestures his hand down and the stone pillar returns to the floor.</p><p>"Oh, Makoto. I'm sorry." Akira starts, her face revealing that her preoccupation with Zanyo distracted her from his presence. Constantly switching her focus between the vigilante and police chief, she takes a deep breath and introduces the two to each other. "Um--Makoto, this is my boyfriend, Zanyo Kanazawa. Zanyo, this is Makoto Hamasaki."</p><p>Feigning friendliness, Makoto simply waves a hand at Zanyo. "A pleasure to meet you."</p><p>"Likewise," Zanyo responds blankly, crossing his arms, but Makoto catches Zanyo's eye as if the newborn police chief knows him in some way.</p><p>"So, I take it you're both earthbenders?" Makoto asks, wanting to dispel any thoughts that may be running through Zanyo's mind.</p><p>"Yeah, we are," Akira answers candidly, smiling at Makoto and nudging her boyfriend. "Zanyo taught me everything I know."</p><p>Playfully nudging Akira back, Zanyo reveals, "Please, you're giving me too much credit. You're a natural, Aki." He places a gentle kiss on Akira's forehead, eliciting a warm smile from the young tea server.</p><p>As the three converse, people from the streets of Ichiba Town enter the tea shop and populate the various tables in search of refreshment. Akira immediately waits on tables and starts serving tea, running like a lop-eared rabbit back and forth. Makoto and Zanyo sit down across from one another, but no words transpire between them--they barely even acknowledge the other's presence. Amid the silence, conversations make themselves known as different tables chat about various topics. Makoto focuses on different discussions, mentally tuning the surrounding noises out. A woman at one table talks about a date she went on the night previous to her friend. At another table, a woman and a man are actually on a date and plan to go to the park after some tea. Two men sit in a corner table and discuss the president's decision to stay out of international affairs. Makoto can't make out exactly where specifically, but he thinks he hears them mention the Earth Kingdom.</p><p>"So... you're a waterbender, huh?" Zanyo questions, once again interrupting Makoto's train of thought.</p><p>Not wanting to disregard him, Makoto replies, "Yeah. I am."</p><p>"From your mother or your father?"</p><p>"My father. He was from the Northern Water Tribe before moving to the Earth Kingdom, where he met my mother. Then they both moved here after getting married and had me. We've lived here ever since." Makoto gives a friendly smile, both to appeal to Zanyo and in homage to his family, or what's left of it.</p><p>"Wait a minute. I think I know you," Zanyo begins. His eyes squint and Makoto can feel the police chief's eyes peer directly into his soul. "Nami Hamasaki... You're his son."</p><p>Makoto side glances at Zanyo, neglecting to show any sense of unsettlement to the police chief, though he can't help but bite his lip ever so slightly. "How do you know that name?"</p><p>"Everyone in the Republic City knows that name. He's been locked up seven years now for what he did." Makoto feels the overbearing aura of Zanyo's unapologetic ruthlessness envelope him despite the police chief's calm, neutral tone. Though his statement reigns true, and Makoto is well aware of it, the shame of his father's mistakes still torments his soul. "And he's never going to see the light of day again."</p><p>"Are you always so ruthless?" Makoto questions, shielding his internal pain and grief.</p><p>"Only when it comes to matters of justice. I may be ruthless, but I'm not a liar. Nami Hamasaki is too dangerous to be allowed to walk the streets. He got what he deserved. Just like all bloodbenders should."</p><p>At the mentioning of bloodbenders, Makoto decides to entertain the thought and attain the opinion of a stranger. "What about The Sanguinare? It seems like he's doing some good around the world, and he's a bloodbender."</p><p>"The Sanguinare isn't above the law. The ends he wishes to achieve do not justify the outlawed means he practices." Zanyo sends out a puff of air in the form of a light laugh. "If I didn't know any better, I would think he was some breed of neo-Equalist."</p><p>"What tells you that he isn't?" Makoto inquires, pretending to be clueless.</p><p>Zanyo crosses his arms, his body language betraying any sense of pride in his analysis of Makoto's vigilante persona and replacing it with calculated certainty. "Though his targets are all benders, his usual method of dealing with them being the nullifying of their bending abilities, none of those benders are innocents. They are all unlawful, oppressive benders that use their bending as a tool of oppression and intimidation. In a way, he too fights for justice, just as I do, but his actions are criminal."</p><p>"What do you think the verdict would be if he's ever captured?" Makoto asks.</p><p>"I think the juries would see his actions as justified. People are easily swayed by their emotions, and The Sanguinare taking out criminal benders who are wanted internationally would certainly bode well for the non-bending majority, though taking their bending might frighten some potential benders in the jury and they might use the outlaw against bloodbending, as a clause for prosecution, due to its fear-inducing power as a justification for their trepidation."</p><p><em>Fervent. Steadfast. Logical. And an overlying sense of justice. He's just like us. Two sides of the same coin</em>, one half of Makoto's conscience deduces.</p><p><em>Be that as it may, he is still a man of the law and will stop at nothing to enforce it</em>, the other half retorts. <em>He is still a threat to us.</em></p><p>"What would you do to The Sanguinare if you were to ever cross paths?"</p><p>Blankly staring at Makoto, Zanyo gives a frightening response with an emotionless face and a vicious tone: "I would do all within my power to snuff him out. Permanently. Like Yakone, like Amon, like Nami Hamasaki, The Sanguinare is too dangerous to be able to walk through the streets unchecked. All bloodbenders are. There's a reason why it's outlawed and why The Sanguinare has been deemed as the final bloodbender." Zanyo rises from his seat, dusts off his uniform, and starts for the door, though he continues to talk despite not looking at Makoto. "If I ever got the chance, Makoto, I would make sure the line of bloodbending ends with him. Bloodbenders have caused too much pain and suffering in this world to benders and non-benders alike. People live in fear of such power. It is my job to ensure that they don't have to. If spilling the blood of one is what's necessary to save the many, I will make a slaughter out of him."</p><p>With that, Zanyo takes his leave, abandoning Makoto at the table to contemplate the police chief's resolve. <em>He is just as ambitious as we are</em>, the former conscience suggests. <em>He will stop at nothing for his dreams to come to fruition. A noble sacrament.</em></p><p><em>But we are not a killer</em>, the latter conscience states, frustrated by Zanyo's unwavering resilience. <em>We are a beacon of hope for the oppressed.</em></p><p>
  <em>And so is he. He is Republic City's hope. But he is calculating and cunning. He can easily find a way to make his murder of us justified.</em>
</p><p>"It's only a matter of how and when," Makoto whispers to himself aloud, dispelling his ambivalent soul. Makoto gets up from his seat, but as he goes to pay for his refreshments, he notices a stack of money on the table with a little note:</p><p>
  <em>Aki,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>This money should cover for the tea Makoto ordered as well as for some new china for the shop. Call me if you want me to go shopping with you.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Love,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Zanyo</em>
</p><p>Smiling a bit, Makoto takes his leave from The Jasmine Dragon, thinking, <em>Maybe there is a heart under that stone-cold exterior</em>.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I made a change to have Makoto's father be an ancestor of the Northern Water Tribe as opposed to the Southern Water Tribe. I was inspired by Unalaq, Desna, and Eska with their fighting style due to their geography. Northern Water Tribe Style seems to be much more flexible and adaptable to the fight and allows the user to take advantage of both close-quarters and long-distance combat.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Table Talk</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Writing this chapter took some time because I decided to just make this one part instead of splitting it into multiple parts, but it deserves a single chapter as it is one of the most important in the overarching plot. I think I'm going to do this from now on for chapters that are crucial to the overarching plot, but chapters that are split into multiple parts will still contain events relevant to the plot, just in a different way.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Moonlight from the clear night sky acts as Makoto's guiding light to his apartment complex. Upon entering Room 126, Makoto is welcomed back home by a giddy Emiko, who runs to her owner and spins around in excitement. The room remains surprisingly tidy despite the spare time the deer dog had to mess around with the arrangement of it all. Emiko's bowl, however, is entirely empty, not a crumb in sight. Makoto rubs the deer dog around her neck--her favorite spot--and Emiko's tail wags enthusiastically. He motions over to the kitchen and repeats Emiko's breakfast to feed her for dinner, which Emiko gratefully gobbles up in no less than a few minutes.</p><p>To wind down, despite the night still being young, Makoto retreats to his room and gets partially undressed to let his body breathe after the strenuous sweat-inducing walk back home. Wearing nothing but tights, Makoto sits down in the center of his room's floor, takes out his icicle earring, and places it before him. Slowing his breathing, Makoto begins to meditate and removes himself from the limits of his surroundings in favor of the limitless being of his mind. As if on its own, the icicle of Makoto's earring melts into water and hovers in a circle around Makoto, gently flowing in a circle around him, like a calm wave on the serene ocean. The room around him seemingly disappears and the water now encompasses him, encompassing his entirety in a liquid orb.</p><p>A limitless amount of water extends from the orb and without opening his eyes, Makoto can sense that he is no longer in the confines of Room 126. He enters a world unbeknownst to him. A world where the limits of empiricism are irrelevant.</p><p>The orb autonomously rises out of the vast lake and starts toward land, gently descending onto the Earth. Opening his eyes, Makoto is greeted with a world of lush green grass, clear cerulean waters, and a bright blue sky. Looking down at himself, Makoto is surprised to see himself fully clothed. Even his earring is back in his ear, the icicle back in its pristine, crystalline form.</p><p>"Where am I? What is this place" Makoto asks aloud although there is no one in sight.</p><p>Alone in a foreign world, Makoto continues to look around, traversing the land for a bit in search of someone, anyone. Walking aimlessly, the vigilante witnesses the beauty of the wide-open plains, a slight breeze tickling his skin and brushing his hair. A mystical guide of sorts, Makoto unknowingly follows the breeze and discovers a dense forest that seems to call him forth. Moving through branches and bushes, Makoto is eventually greeted with a long, white table in an empty spot of the forest, a quaint old man sitting at the far end.</p><p>"Ah! Makoto! You've finally come! Welcome to the spirit world. Please, sit," the man suggests, gesturing to the seat closest to him.</p><p>Despite his indifference, Makoto complies with the man. The closer he gets to the man, however, the more familiar he seems. As he sits down, Makoto asks, "Do I know you from somewhere?"</p><p>"You may have caught me in one or two of your dreams, but I think this might jog your memory." The old man smiles a simple smile, his eyes closing gently as his lips stretch out into a friendly, reassuring form.</p><p>"You're the man in the picture! From the tea shop!" Makoto realizes.</p><p>"Yes, I am. I'm Iroh. General of the Fire Nation Army, member of the White Lotus, player of Pai Sho, and creator of The Jasmine Dragon. Well, the original anyway. I hear it has become more of a franchise now." Iroh rubs his bearded chin, the thought of the tea shop occupying my mind. Eventually looking upon Makoto's awestruck face, he slides over a silver tray, a kettle of tea and six empty cups on it. As he pours the tea, he explains, "I know you have many questions. And all will be answered soon enough. In the meantime, have a cup of some calming jasmine tea."</p><p>Unsure of what to say, Makoto takes the steaming cup carefully in his hands and sips the tea. The liquid passes through his body and sends a warm sensation throughout. Makoto grins and thanks Iroh. "This tea is amazing!"</p><p>"Thank you! If only my nephew thought so too."</p><p>"Nephew?"</p><p>Iroh nods. "Yes. Former Firelord Zuko. He was troubled when he first went on his journey, but he was able to craft his destiny. His grandson is now the reigning Firelord. His name also happens to be Iroh."</p><p>Finishing another sip of tea, Makoto nods. "I've heard about him recently. He's decided that the Fire Nation is going to remain neutral with what's happening in the Earth Kingdom right now."</p><p>"Ah, yes. The Earth Kingdom," Iroh begins, closing his eyes and stroking his beard once more. "That is actually the reason why you are here, Makoto."</p><p>Mid sip, Makoto chokes on his tea, just as he had done in front of Akira. "What do you mean 'that's why I'm here'? I didn't even know that I was able to come here until after I came out of that lake back there."</p><p>"Well, I can assure you, not many people who aren't the Avatar can travel into the spirit world without entering a spirit portal, but that earring of yours is imbued with mystical spiritual energy from the Spirit Portal in the North Pole. It's something of a mini-portal, if you will, that can transport your physical body into the Spirit World. It was just waiting for the right time to allow you to pass over into this realm."</p><p>"The right time for what?"</p><p>"I'm not at liberty to say, but when our guests arrive, they will tell you what you're here for," Iroh reveals.</p><p>"And who are these guests?" Makoto inquires, his patience attempting to run out, but his consideration and anticipation for what is to come forbidding it from doing so.</p><p>"Well you already know who I am," a muffled, yet proud voice guarantees out of nowhere. Makoto looks around for the source but sees nothing. That is until he feels a tugging from his chest like something wishes to exit. Makoto can feel his soul split in two, the other half leaving his body and manifesting itself into a physical form. Before him lies the same crimson mask, black biker jacket, black jeans, and black combat boots that he dons for his occupation. Before him is The Sanguinare.</p><p>Sitting down at the table, The Sanguinare cordially folds his hands and places them on the table. "It's nice for us to finally sit face-to-face, Makoto. It's nice to see the man behind the mask."</p><p>"But, how are you even here? You're just a persona! An alternate identity!" Makoto blurts out, his voice resounding louder than he anticipated. Though The Sanguinare's face is just a mask, Makoto can sense him doing something equivalent to a smile.</p><p>"This is the spirit world, Makoto, and I'm the other half of your spirit. I've always been with you even before we donned this persona, this beacon of justice. I've always been an idea, an impervious conception residing in your mind, but then I evolved into something greater. I became a part of you. A part of who you are. You are the yin and I am the yang. I am the virility behind your delicate daintiness. You are the calm moon that guides my aggressive current. And despite our differences, there is a piece of us within the other. We are inseparable, one and the same. Without each other, neither of us exists."</p><p>"As is the nature of the world," Iroh interjects, jutting a finger into the air. "Duality is the essence of balance. You may be the vessel in which the vigilante resides, Makoto, but he still exists inside you. He is just as real as you are. In fact, he's the reason why you are here."</p><p>"How so?" Makoto asks, still gingerly nursing his cup of tea.</p><p>"Well, what's allowed you to pick your targets over the past three years?" Iroh inquires, his tone revealing that all three of them already know the answer.</p><p>Without hesitation, Makoto replies, "My dreams. Sometimes when I dream I get glimpses of the target. Their face, their dreams, their transgressions. It's like in a brief flash I learn everything about them."</p><p>"And that is all my doing," The Sanguinare admits, kicking back in his chair and resting his feet on the table. Iroh doesn't seem to mind, his demeanor remaining calm and collected. "When you sleep, I venture into the spirit world and accrue all known information about our next potential target. You didn't dream about anyone last night because I knew that you needed the rest. As an idea, I never run out of energy, but I know that as a man, you need your rest. Just like I said, I'm nothing without you."</p><p>"And I'm nothing without you," Makoto finishes sincerely.</p><p>He sets his tea down, closes his eyes, and inhales deeply, taking everything in. Makoto has always been quick to adapt to new scenarios, a stereotypical natural ability of waterbenders and a skill accrued during his practice of vigilantism.</p><p>"You're also better at accepting yourself than Zuko was," Iroh teases, meaning no harm to his absent nephew. "Well, now that that's out of the way, I suppose it's time to introduce you to our other guests, Makoto."</p><p>The old man reaches down for a handheld golden gong that was resting on his chair's leg. Despite its size, when Iroh bangs the gong, the following sound is at a volume so high and powerful that the trees surrounding them back away from it. Makoto covers his ears, the sound of the gong overbearing his hearing. But Iroh and The Sanguinare sit peacefully and patiently, waiting for the final three guests to arrive.</p><p>As the gong settles, two large figures fly toward the table from the sky. Slowly coming into focus, Makoto witnesses a large, black barn owl with a white face and a coffee-colored beak descend to the ground, a white and blue spirit with ancient markings on its bodice following closely.</p><p>"Who-who are you two?" Makoto asks in awe as the two figure land.</p><p>"I am Wan Shi Tong, he who knows ten thousand things," the barn owl answers proudly.</p><p>"And I am Raava, the spirit of light, peace, as well as the Avatar spirit," the white and blue spirit discloses.</p><p>Gesturing toward the two spirits, The Sanguinare admits with utter confidence, "Wan Shi Tong and Raava are our informants. I feed the information they give me to you through our dreams, and then you, with me driving as co-pilot, apprehend our target in the effort of giving them the justice they deserve."</p><p>"Your soul's staunch ambition toward the cause of justice is what drew me to it," Raava adds. "The justice your soul longs for is an avenue for the hope and peace the world needs."</p><p>"And as Avatar Kyoshi has said, 'Only justice will bring peace,'" Wan Shi Tong interjects. "Personally, I have joined your efforts to prevent corruption in the human world. After I was betrayed by Unalaq, I once again had little faith in humanity, but when you came along, decades after Harmonic Convergence and the era of Avatar Korra, I knew that there may be some hope for a better world for humans. Your soul gave me hope."</p><p>A proud smile forms itself on Makoto's face. "I suppose it's nice to know that my efforts aren't in vain," he admits to Wan Shi Tong, but looking back at The Sanguinare, the reality of who and what he and his vigilante counterpart are hits him in his heart and soul. He bites his lip and tears start to well up in Makoto's eyes, slightly obscuring his vision. "I know what the two of us do is more than just us. It's for the people of the world. But sometimes I can't help but wonder if what we do is all because of our father. I wonder if we're really just doing this to get back at him, even though he got the justice he deserved."</p><p>Handing Makoto a handkerchief, Iroh decides to chime in: "Your father's transgressions do not define you or who you are. My brother was a spiteful man who attempted to transfer his mentality to his children. My niece succumbed to his ways and fell victim to them, but my nephew, Zuko, was able to grow out of that and forge his own destiny. He regained his honor by his own hand, with some help. From what I've heard today, and from The Saguinare in the past, you have already started to forge your destiny, but your memories of your father sometimes blind you to that fact." Iroh's hand finds Makoto's shoulder as the wise, old man continues. "I don't know what your father did, but I know that you need to grow from your father and forgive him for his sins."</p><p>A wave of consolation covers everyone at the table, and all sympathize with Makoto's troubles. "Makoto," Raava begins, "as the spirit of light and peace, I never pick perfect people. I pick people perfect for the job at hand. And not to disregard your feelings toward your father by segueing to the main topic of discussion, but I have a job for you. Or, rather, I have someone who has a job for you."</p><p>As Raava concludes her statement, a woman in an army uniform emerges from the surrounding vegetation. An older woman, with scars that tell her life story, stands before the table at attention with dignity and bravado. Her proud presence seemingly washes over the table, requiring everyone to give her their attention.</p><p>"Makoto Hamasaki, The Sanguinare," the woman starts, addressing the two parts of one soul individually, "I am Masami Morimoto, General of the United Forces." She glances at Iroh, who gives her a slight nod. "And I am also a member of the Order of the White Lotus."</p><p>Dabbing some tears away, Makoto says, "It-it's a pleasure to meet you, ma'am."</p><p>"Yes, it is a pleasure," adds The Sanguinare.</p><p>"Oh no, the pleasure is mine," General Masami states, bowing slightly. Her straight, gray, shoulder-length hair droops down slightly in front of her face but retreats to the side of her head as she straightens herself back up. "Iroh has informed me of your actions over the years, which, in my opinion, are quite commendable. And I read about your siege on the Runaway Casino in the Republic City Journal this morning. I must say, it's surprising that you were never military, because your physical abilities are exceptional. Compared to what I've seen, they may even surpass our military."</p><p>"Well, my mother was a Kyoshi Warrior so she taught me everything she knows. Acrobatics, chi blocking, stealth, hand-to-hand combat, and things of the sort," Makoto admits.</p><p>"She must have been quite the warrior to be able to train you to the level you're at."</p><p>"She was," Makoto responds with a smile, thinking about his mother, his saving grace.</p><p>"I guess, if I had to compare you to someone else, it would have to be Amon," General Masami deduces. "I mean that in more your abilities than motives. You both are extremely powerful benders, but prefer to use your agility, dexterity, and endurance to wear out your opponent first before delivering a counterattack. Of course, you use your bending more liberally than him, because you're not preoccupied with appearing to the public as a non-bender. Regardless, you're extremely talented, and it is this talent that I need to help me out with a mission of utmost importance."</p><p>The old general walks down the table toward Makoto, grabs a porcelain cup from the tray, and pours herself a cup of jasmine tea. Taking a sip, her eyes open wide and she tells Iroh, "This is some good tea, Iroh."</p><p>"Thank you, Masami! I knew you would like it," Iroh says with a smile.</p><p>She nods in appreciation as she walks back to her end of the table. Her movements aren't stiff as one would assume, but rather quite smooth and poised. She finally takes a seat and places down her cup before folding her hands on the table, accentuating that her next words are important.</p><p>"Now, as I'm sure you're all aware, the political and social fabric of the Earth Kingdom is in ruins," Masami begins. "After Avatar Korra died, criminal benders of all professions across the world took advantage of the Avatar's reincarnation and began their tirade on non-benders. Over time, each nation dealt with the problem of oppression in their respective way. Of course, there are still some criminal enterprises at large, but for the most part, the oppression of non-benders has been dealt with. However, in the recent Earth Kingdom election, a neo-Equalist leader, Jun'ichi Takeda, was elected in fear that benders would attempt to oppress non-benders once more. And with non-benders as a majority, most of which sympathetic to Jun'ichi's endeavors, he won by a landslide. He sounded quite moderate with his policies during the election and won over a vast majority of the nation, but once he became Earth King, he took charge with an iron fist against benders. He elected notorious neo-Equalist politicians and government officials to his council, converting the terrorist group into the nation's dominant political and social force. Jun'ichi uses his status as a non-bender to elevate his popularity among his fellow non-benders, thus garnering support for policies against benders. His actions, in turn, have caused benders and a percentage of non-benders to physically fight back against the government and fight this newfound oppression. This struggle has recently been classified by all nations as an Earth Kingdom civil war and the victor of this war has the power to change the Earth Kingdom for centuries to come."</p><p>Turning his head in Masami's direction, The Sanguinare crosses his arms, disinterested in the implication of intervention. "So what is it you need from us? Isn't intervening in civil wars your job?"</p><p>"Not to sound antagonistic, but I would have to agree, General Masami," Makoto says disarmingly to neutralize the aloofness of his counterpart. "Aren't you the one that would be asked to deal with this situation?"</p><p>Sighing heavily with disdain in her breath, Masami explains, "Considering that President Adachi decided that the United Republic will be abstaining from interfering in foreign affairs, I am rendered useless. Sending troops under that order would be nothing less than treason and going against a direct order. That's why I need you."</p><p>"We need you," Raava adds.</p><p>"Yes, we," Masami continues. "As an international vigilante, with not a single failure might I add, you are the perfect candidate for me-- I mean, us to outsource. You are a master of espionage, infiltration, and, if need be, assassination. Now, I do not wish for Jun'ichi Takeda to be assassinated. I would prefer for him to receive the justice that he deserves and to face the consequences of inciting a civil war amongst his countrymen by turning the tables of oppression, despite the problem already being dealt with. For your sake, I am giving you free rein to conduct this mission how you see fit. You're not one to be tied down by the rules of societal superiority and in light of that, I wouldn't want to encroach on your process of apprehension."</p><p>"Thank you for that," The Sanguinare responds, satisfied with Masami's conclusion.</p><p>"Yes, thank you," Makoto agrees with his counterpart.</p><p>"I do, however, have one condition, that is in your benefit," Masami replies.</p><p>Makoto's face tilts slightly in inquisition. "What would that be?"</p><p>Masami glances up at Raava before laying out her condition: "Jun'ichi is no fool, nor is he inexperienced in dealing with benders. He was a member of the Earth Kingdom military and rose the ranks quickly. He is more powerful than even the most skilled bending generals in the Earth Kingdom's army. Though I do not doubt your abilities, I think that it is in your best interest to gain the allegiance of the Avatar."</p><p>Makoto chokes on the tea that he was sipping as Masami was talking, and in his head, he can hear The Sanguinare tell him telepathically, <em>You really need to stop doing that.</em> Shaking his head Makoto is dumbfounded at the general's edict. "But no one knows who the Avatar is! Five years ago, when the Avatar should have been pronounced because they would have been sixteen, no one was named. Some people even think that the Avatar cycle was broken when Korra died for some reason."</p><p>"Those are all rumors and lies," Raava says, interjecting Makoto's ramble on the Avatar. "The Avatar lives, but she was not ready to face the world five years ago. She was still an inexperienced earthbender at the time and was quite the timid girl. She still is, but she has gained confidence over the years and mastery of her earthbending from a close loved one in her life."</p><p>Impatiently, The Sanguinare interrupts: "Well, who is it then?"</p><p>"Her name is Akira Fay. You met her earlier today, in her cousin's tea shop." Makoto and The Sanguinare look at each other in curiosity and then return their gaze to Raava. "You also met her lover, Zanyo. He's quite the earthbender, with something of a zealous conviction to the idea of peace and justice."</p><p>"No kidding," The Sanguinare mumbles, loud enough for everyone to hear.</p><p>"He said that he would kill us if it meant that the people of Republic City would be safe. How can he say that as the Chief of Police?" Makoto asks Raava.</p><p>"You, of all people, should know that ideas like peace and justice are abstract and surpass societal law. You're no different than Zanyo. You both are willing to break the law and commit acts deemed criminal by society to ensure peace amongst your people and bring those who you view to do wrong to justice."</p><p>"And seeing that he too would be sympathetic to our goal, he must accompany you on your journey," Masami interrupts to inform Makoto and The Sanguinare on another aspect of the condition. "Akira's timid nature would not allow her to go off with a stranger without someone of familiarity being there with her. And Zanyo, assumedly, would be damned before letting his girlfriend go off to save the world without his 'protection' as if she will need it. The two are an inseparable pair, and you'll need both of them if this mission is to succeed."</p><p>The Sanguinare turns his attention away from the general, mumbling something antagonistic under his breath, but Makoto focuses on Masami, anxious about working with Zanyo. "But what if he finds out what and who I am? He already knows who my father is. What's stopping him from eventually connecting the dots and discovering my identity?"</p><p>"That is a risk you are going to have to take for this mission," Masami replies. "If his threat is serious, then you're going to have to keep your identity under wraps. If he finds out who you are and tries to kill you, it may jeopardize this mission and your life, depending on if he intends to go through with it or not."</p><p>"And another thing," Raava adds. "Akira may be the Avatar, but she only knows how to earthbend and metalbend. She is going to need to master the elements of fire, air, and water if you wish for her to help with your mission. You, Makoto, must be her waterbending teacher. You are one of the best waterbending prodigies to walk the Earth. "</p><p>Slightly overwhelmed, but ultimately understanding what is needed of him, Makoto nods, accepting the responsibilities laid out for him. He doesn't want to cause a scene in front of his informant and the woman requiring his services, so he promises himself to overthink everything later on in the night. Looking at The Sanguinare, he can tell that the more staunch one of the two of them is willing to take the risk if it means helping the world. The contract to aid the world was signed when Makoto first became a vigilante three years prior, and now the world is actively asking for his help. It is his duty to see this mission done.</p><p>"I will make it my mission to bring Akira to her teachers, train her in waterbending, and bring Earth King Takeda to justice," Makoto pledges solemnly, standing up before the spirits and General Masami. Wan Shi Tong, Raava, and Masami all give a nod, Raava and Masami departing thusly.</p><p>"If you need any knowledge to help you on your mission, my library is always open," Wan Shi Tong informs Makoto and The Sanguinare before flying off into the distance.</p><p>Sighing, Makoto rubs his temples to calm his overthinking mind. Iroh raises himself from his seat and once again places his hand on Makoto's shoulder.</p><p>"You should return home and think all of this over. You look like you need some rest," Iroh suggests, a soothing tone in his voice.</p><p>Makoto understands that is what's best, and The Sanguinare agrees as he rises from his seat and returns to Makoto's soul, feeling home once again. Makoto leaves the table and returns to the lake, his portal of entry into the spirit world. He walks into the lake, slowly submerging his body in the spirit water. Once he's fully submerged, he awakens back in his room as he found it. His earring on the floor, his clothes in his hamper, his tights on his legs, and the water still flowing in a circle around him. He returns the water to his earring as an icicle and places it on his bedside table. Mentally tired, he falls face first on his bed and instantly drifts off into the dreamscape.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. The Visit: Part One</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>A new, revised version of this chapter that I think fits the story better and explains some history with Makoto's family while keeping somethings vague.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"What the fuck did I get myself into?" Makoto asks, receiving a blank response from Emiko, who stares back at him and appears more interested in lying on the couch where Makoto is instead of listening to him. Lying supine on his couch, his feet propping up his legs, Makoto clasps his hands over his eyes like he's struggling on whether or not to claw them out.A few days have passed since Makoto accepted his mission, yet his soul still combats the decision. An endless battle between Makoto and The Sanguinare, neither side is giving in.</p><p><em>We've never done a mission of such caliber before. Who knows what'll happen to us, Akira, and whoever else we bring along, </em>Makoto says, his indecisiveness guiding his words.</p><p><em>That's not what matters. Even if we don't make it out alive, fighting corruption and injustice is our mission statement. If we're martyred, that passion will surge across the world, </em>The Sanguinare reasons, remaining steadfast.</p><p><em>Driving our future allies into the face of death in the name of justice is not justified. It's inconsiderate and heartless, </em>Makoto chides his counterpart. <em>I'll take no part in leading a team to the slaughter.</em></p><p><em>But we must do right by those who need protection from the people who wish to use their power to oppress, </em>The Sanguinare explains.</p><p><em>We can still do right by them. We don't have to be so reckless, </em>Makoto concludes complacently, still having his reservations on the matter.</p><p>A knock on the door distracts Makoto from his soul searching. Emiko runs to the door, barking uncontrollably at the person behind the door. Makoto gets up from the couch and straightens himself out, patting down his clothes and fixing his hair.</p><p>"Hello? Makoto? Are you home, sweetie?" a feminine voice calls from behind the door.</p><p>The familiarity of the voice puts Makoto at ease, and he quits fussing over his constitution. He opens the door to an older woman about five feet and five inches tall, the radiance of her fair skin counteracting the various wrinkles around her eyes and on her cheeks. The woman's dark reddish-brown hair emboldens her copper-colored eyes and rosy cheeks.</p><p>"Hi, Mom," greets Makoto, surprised to see her visiting randomly. "What are you doing here?"</p><p>He steps aside as his mother, Ichika, moves past him into his apartment. "Well, I haven't seen you in a while. I miss my baby." She rests a hand on Makoto's cheek, her face faltering a bit. "It gets quite lonely in Republic City without you... and your father." Makoto watches as Ichika's eyes drift away from her son, a hint of sadness twinkling in their motion. And something else: guilt.</p><p>Makoto closes the door and guides his mother to the couch. She pulls her emerald sundress, so she sits comfortably on the couch, and Emiko runs up to the couch to sit next to her. Before taking a seat himself, Makoto decides to be a proper host to his mother.</p><p>"Do you want anything to drink?" Makoto inquires. "Water? Tea? Coffee?"</p><p>She waves a hand dismissively and readjusts her glasses. "Oh no, sweetie. I'm fine." Ichika shifts in her seat and fiddles with her arms uncomfortably. Makoto pretends not to notice, putting on a kettle of tea for himself and a little extra just in case. Ichika decides to pipe up to break the momentary silence. "So, how are things here? How's 'work'?"</p><p>Knowing full well what she means, Makoto leans against the kitchen counter, facing his mother, and responds, "It's going just fine. I haven't failed yet. I'm sure you heard about my recent capture."</p><p>"Yes, I did. You've grown a lot from your training. I'm so proud of you... and I'm sure your father would be as well." Makoto notices Ichika's voice quiet down and a noticeable shift in her weight at the mentioning of his father. Makoto grips the counter tightly, an alternative to being openly antagonistic at the thought of his father. His father isn't important right now, but his mother's sudden appearance and odd attitude make Makoto think otherwise.</p><p>Sitting down in the armchair next to the couch, Makoto decides to press his mother. "Mom, is there another reason why you're here?" Makoto passively asks. "You seem... off. "</p><p>She quickly shakes her head. "Why would there be? Can I not come to see my one and only son every once in a while? I may be old, but my mind is still as sharp as ever."</p><p>Makoto could hear the intonation in Ichika's voice, her usual tell. He sighs and says, "Mom, please don't lie to me. You wouldn't have driven nearly two hours over here, without calling for no reason. At least, for no reason that I know of. You've never been this antsy since... that day."</p><p>"Yes... that day," she says solemnly.</p><p>"Mom, what is this all about?"</p><p>"I--" She sighs, regrettably. "You always were so attentive. I suppose you got that from me. Of course, you also got my genes where I tend to ramble when I'm in a bit of a pickle--"</p><p>"Mom!" Makoto interrupts, despite trying his best not to get too annoyed with his mother. "What the hell is this about?"</p><p>"And you got your no-nonsense attitude from your father. And your steadfast nature," Ichika whispers. Makoto watches his mother's eyes look him with overwhelming guilt, and then she admits, "I came because I want you to come with me to visit your father."</p><p>Makoto bites his lip and grips his mug of tea so hard it could shatter into a million pieces. Blood boils under his skin, and the red undertones of his skin embolden around his hands and face. Attempting to keep the peace, Makoto chooses his next words carefully but intends to be forthright.</p><p>"Mother," he begins, "please explain to me why, in your good conscience, you thought it was a good idea to come down here unannounced so you could attempt to take me to visit the man who is the origin of my childhood trauma?"</p><p>"Koko-"</p><p>"Mom!" Makoto interrupts rudely once again but calms his tone before addressing his mother again. "Don't call me that. Please."</p><p>Ichika sighs, apologetic solemnity coming off of her breath. "Makoto, as a mother, you feel these different... intuitions, I'll say. When something is wrong. It's like a tug at your heart that you can't shake away. I felt one a few days ago in the middle of the night, and I felt my heart ache for you. I knew that you were struggling with an important decision. Something life-changing. And though I don't know what you're dealing with, I thought that maybe talking with your father would help."</p><p>"What the- How could you-" Makoto stammers. "Visiting him isn't going to help me. It's something I need to figure out myself. I've always had to."</p><p>"You remind me so much of him. So independent. Too independent."</p><p>"Don't compare me to him. Ever. That man is a monster."</p><p>Makoto finally takes a sip of tea, stubbornly disregarding the heat of the liquid. He watches as Ichika gets up from the couch to pour herself a cup of tea. "You're wrong, son. Your father isn't a monster."</p><p>"And what makes you think that?" Makoto shouts. He can no longer keep his anger inside. An insatiable sort of rage that had been shoved down for seven years. "He attacked innocent benders! He trained me to be his perfect, little weapon! And he never told either of us that he was working for the neo-Equalists! He's a liar, mom, and he never gave a damn about us."</p><p>A slam comes from the kitchen. Ichika seems to have slammed her cup, though not hard enough to chip it. She turns to Makoto with an almost aggressive speed. "Everything he did was for us! You may not understand, or not want to understand, but your father joined the neo-Equalists for a reason! He did it to protect us!"</p><p>"Are you condoning his actions, Mother?"</p><p>"Of course not! But you need to understand that he didn't just make the decision in a day!" Ichika exhales deeply. Makoto watches as she sips her tea, and he follows suit. Ichika continues, "Times were different when Nami and I were your age."</p><p>"What do you mean?" Makoto questions carefully, unsure of whether this is something his mother is willing to open up about.</p><p>Ichika makes her way back to her seat on the couch and places her tea down before her. "When I was young, the oppression of non-benders was at its height. My family and I struggled to survive, and my parents could barely find any decent work to support us all. Because of that, they sent me to live with the Kyoshi Warriors. I learned how to defend myself, and it served me well the few times benders thought they could take advantage of me because they thought I was a weak non-bender. There was one time, though, where I was caught off guard," she pauses, tears welling up in her eyes. "I was nineteen, your age, and these three businessmen, all benders, attacked me on the subway platform on my home. I had no material possessions to offer them, so you can assume what it is they wanted from me. I was unable to scream for help and, quite frankly, to this day I don't know how he knew what was going on, but your father came to my rescue. He used the steam in the pipes around the platform for water. I was dazed, but I still remember seeing him take down three benders with ease.</p><p>"He tried to help me up, but I was so afraid of what was going to happen that I cowered away from him. He persisted and grabbed my arm. I know now that he didn't mean to come off aggressive, but fear took over, and I defaulted to my training. I chi-blocked him and his arm and leg went limp. After that, I ran home as fast as I could and didn't look back."</p><p>Makoto looks in awe of his mother. He never knew that she went through all of that and that this was the reality of how his parents met. At a loss for words, he says, "Mom... I-I don't know what to say."</p><p>His mother's hand waves him off. "You needn't say anything, Makoto. There's nothing you could have done about it."</p><p>"So... what happened after that?"</p><p>"Well, the next day when I had to get back on the subway because that was my only way to get to work. I didn't have enough money for a Satomobile back then. Anyhoo, I was on the platform and I was the only one there until your father came by. He said 'hi' to me, and I quietly said 'hi' back. I was less afraid of him, but I didn't know how to approach him.</p><p>"He sat next to me on the bench. We were quiet for a while. I guess the silence was deafening because your father asked me how I was after what happened. I told him that I was shaken up and nothing else. We were quiet again, and that was when I learned that your father hates the quiet," Ichika chuckles, "because he quickly turned to me and said 'I'm so sorry about yesterday! Those assholes shouldn't have had the nerve to even look at you, let alone attack you! They got what was coming to them, but I'm sorry you had to witness all of that.' I asked him what happened to them after I left, and he told me that he called the police and let them deal with the situation. I agreed that that was the best way to deal with the situation at the time. Those men already got their beating. They knew better for next time. And if they didn't, they'd get theirs."</p><p>"You reap what you sow," Makoto declares, eliciting a nod from Ichika as the two simultaneously sip their tea.</p><p>"Since your father and I took the same subway to and from our jobs, we were pretty much stuck with each other. He eventually asked me out for a picnic in a public park. It was the most magical moment of my life, next to our wedding... and the day you were born." Makoto watches his mother's face falter at the mentioning of his birth, and he can assume what that means.</p><p>"I'm guessing my birth is where dad took a turn?" Makoto says.</p><p>"You would be correct in that assumption. We didn't know if you were going to be born a bender or a non-bender, and I did fear for what would come to you, despite the fact that tensions between benders and non-benders had been mended by that time. Regardless, my fear never trumped my hope, but your father's fear consumed him. He feared that horrible things would come to me and you, so joining the neo-Equalists was his way of protecting us from danger, albeit an extreme way of doing so. It was only when we found out you were a waterbender that he decided to train you for the neo-Equalists. He had us both fooled. You were only a child, but I never suspected his association with the neo-Equalists, or him grooming you into a weapon of terrorism. "</p><p>"Well, he got what he deserved," Makoto declares in regard to his father's imprisonment, but also hinting at an equally painful truth.</p><p>"Perhaps he did, but I can't sit here and say that I hate him for all that he's done. He joined a terrorist organization, tried to turn you, our only son, into a tool for terrorism, and effectively broke up our family," she lists. "And even through all of the bad, I still love him."</p><p>Makoto bites his lip once more; he's filled to the brim with uncertainty. A hidden part of him still longed for his father, but his anger always trumped his love. What if his malice toward his father was mostly misplaced?  <em>He did do terrible things, but what if they were for the right reasons? </em>he thinks.</p><p>The Sanguinare decides to pipe up: <em>Nothing justifies his taking advantage of you and your mother. I understand your apprehension, however, this was his fate, and you merely played your part.</em></p><p>"Part of me still feels wrong about it all<em>," </em>Makoto thinks aloud. He looks at his mother desperately and says, "I want to forgive him, but I just can't. Not after what happened."</p><p>Ichika places down her tea once more and makes her way over to Makoto. He feels her hand delicately comb her hand through his hair as she says, "You don't have to forgive him, but I think that same part of you that wants to forgive him also wants some semblance of closure. I think talking to him is the best way for you to get the closure you seek." She tilts Makoto's head to look up and her. "And don't worry. I'll be right there with you when it happens."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. The Visit: Part Two</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Finally, a newly edited version of this chapter that better encapsulates the conflict between Makoto and his father (and it definitely fits the characterization I wanted for Makoto's father, Nami, from the beginning: an unwavering, fully-devoted man who bears staunch beliefs; he and Makoto are the essentially the same person, but hold different beliefs).</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Makoto clothes himself in a traditional Northern Water Tribe suit, riddled with various shades of blue to match the cold waters of the North Pole and purple in reverence to the Northern Lights, and dresses two strands of his hair in the front in white and ocean blue bands that bring out the blue in his right eye. The looseness of the clothes has grown a bit foreign to Makoto. Still, he greets the outfit nonetheless as a sign of reverence of his paternal heritage, even wearing the traditional Water Tribe betrothal necklace his mother received from his father. As both an element of artistic liberty and a memory of his father's promise to his family, Makoto wears the necklace proudly.</p><p>Leaving Room 126, Makoto saunters to his mother's car--a new pistachio shaded convertible Satomobile--and gets in on the passenger's side. As he and his mother speed off toward his father's prison, Makoto postulates what will occur. Will his father be the man he remembers him to be? Will he be the loving father he promised to be? Will he even remember what happened that night? Makoto begins to nervously bite at his lip, his usual way to cope.</p><p>"You really should stop biting your lip, dear," Ichika warns. "It'll become a bad habit."</p><p>"It's already a bad habit, mother," Makoto replies lightheartedly. "I just... I don't know what to expect." His words linger a bit from the anxiety of it all. Noticing his mother hadn't asked him to pull out a map during the entire drive, Makoto decides to question her. "Have you visited him before?"</p><p>Not looking at Makoto, Ichika charitably answers, "Yes, quite a few times. I will say, he's been very fond of you despite what happened. He bears no ill feelings toward you for what you did to him."</p><p>"For what <em>I </em>did?" Makoto asks, once again harboring the same anger from before. "He still never apologized for what <em>he</em> did to <em>me</em>?"</p><p>"Well, darling, I know this isn't gonna be what you want to hear, but it's not like you gave him the chance to. You hadn't seen him since that night. You were twelve then. You're nineteen now, an adult, and you still haven't seen him."</p><p>"But-"</p><p>"Am I wrong?" Ichika interrupts.</p><p>Makoto exhales. "No... you aren't wrong."</p><p>The two ride in silence for a good while, crossing bridges and traversing tunnels built into the rolling hills of the northeastern United Republic. Makoto stares out the window as if in search of some excuse to not visit his father after all this time. Nothing comes to fruition. Once he agreed to the visit, there was no backing out. And part of him is okay with it.</p><p>The ride continues quietly, and, eventually, the prison comes into Makoto's view. The Steel Magnolia, known for its spotless record of being inescapable, is an enormous prison spanning yards upon yards, for as far as the eye can see. Most of the criminals Makoto has apprehended in his three-year career dwell in the Steel Magnolia. Despite having their bending taken away, they are too smart and dangerous to be put in a regular prison. Nami Hamasaki is the most intelligent and most dangerous of them all.</p><p>Makoto sits anxiously in his seat as the Satomobile follows a surprisingly smooth dirt path to the Steel Magnolia Headquarters--a large, platinum rose--dwelling on the hillside. Reaching a checkpoint, two metalbending police officers halt the car at the metal barricade and approach it calmly. Ichika takes off her sunglasses and is the first to speak.</p><p>"Lovely day today, isn't it, officers?"</p><p>The younger one, by the passenger's side, looks over at the older one by the driver's side who gives a disarming nod as if to say that making conversation is expected.</p><p>"Yes, ma'am," the older one begins. "May I ask what your business is today, ma'am?"</p><p>"Well, I'm here with my son to visit his father, my husband, Nami Hamasaki."</p><p>The two guards look at each other once more, the younger one shaking slightly and the older one visibly at a loss for words.</p><p>"Ma'am, I can't let you two see him." the older officer says definitively.</p><p>"Is there something wrong with him?" Ichika answers with her own question, seemingly unsure of what's wrong.</p><p>"Oh, no. There's nothing wrong."</p><p>"And we've arrived at his visiting hours, correct?" Ichika asks to confirm.</p><p>"Yes, ma'am, you have."</p><p>"Then, pardon my manners, but what then is the problem, officer? I've visited him many times before, and there were no previous contentions with visiting him."</p><p>The older officer sighs. "I assume you've previously visited him alone."</p><p>"Yes, sir, I have."</p><p>"Well, when it comes to our visiting policies, only one visitor is permitted per inmate. I'm sorry, ma'am, but only one of you can visit him today."</p><p>Makoto feels his heart sink, and his mind begins to wander. <em>Only one visitor! I can't be alone with him! I have no idea what could happen! It would be torture! He could try and manipulate me, just like he tried all those years ago... Who knows how much he's changed?</em></p><p><em>Regardless of what I think, </em>The Sanguinare pipes up, <em>s</em><em>houldn't that be reason enough to see him?</em> <em>If I were to think like you, then the first thought in my mind would be 'w</em><em>ho knows how much he has changed? He received the justice he deserved, and perhaps that has made him a different person. Maybe there is some semblance of hope.' And if he hasn't changed, I can take the reins. I specialize in making aloofness seem genuine in order to elicit underestimation.</em></p><p>Makoto smiles at himself. Though still quite nervous, The Sanguinare's words give him the fortitude to push forward. There's no telling what may happen, but the possibilities are endless. Something terrible may happen, but there is always the chance of good to occur; even in the blackest of night, the light can still be seen.</p><p>Makoto gets out of the car and stands tall, shoulders back and chin high. "Mother," Makoto begins proudly, "I'm going to go in alone." Ichika looks at him, her face initially reading shock, but soon settling into something understanding. All she gives is a simple nod, and that's all Makoto needs to know that she is proud of him and supports him. Makoto looks at the guards and continues. "You wouldn't mind it if my mother were to stay here and wait for my return, would you?"</p><p>"Under normal circumstances, she would have to leave, but considering that not many other cars come down here and you need a ride back, she can stay. I think that's the least we can do for the trouble of traveling all the way here," the older guard allows. He gives the younger guard a nod in the checkpoint's direction.</p><p>The younger guard motions over to Makoto and says, "Before we go, I just have to make sure you don't have any weapons, contraband, or any other illegal items on you."</p><p>The guard raises Makoto's arms at his sides and pats him down thoroughly. Finding nothing, he guides Makoto past the checkpoint and down the dirt path. Following the way past the headquarters reveals a secret valley with lush green grass that the jail cells reside. Unlike the metal flowers of Zaofu, these ones always remain in a nyctinastic state, closed to keep the convicts imprisoned for as long as they live.</p><p>"Whod've thought to build these here?" Makoto inquires about the cells.</p><p>"Well, from what I know, the United Republic asked for it to be built here," the young guard explains. "Despite the sharp dips of the hills and the odd structure of the valleys, this land was used for farming, but the government bought it from the owners at quite the hefty price. Anyhoo, they hired an architect from Zaofu that helped plan and manage the construction of the platinum flower prison cells."</p><p>"What about this place makes it so inescapable?"</p><p>"Well, considering that platinum is impervious to metalbending and there's 24/7 security patrolling the land and cells, the cells are tailored to whoever lives in it, similar to the constructs the White Lotus crafted to imprison the Red Lotus. Waterbenders are suspended over lava in a metal cell, Earthbenders are kept in a wooden prison on a wooden raft in a moat, Firebenders are confined in an icy prison with temperatures below zero, and Airbenders are chained to the ground by their limbs with limited freedom to move about the cell."</p><p>"And Non-benders?" Makoto asks.</p><p>"They're usually kept in an empty cell, but they do get a bed, a bathroom, and every other 'amenity' a prison cell has. Depending on the severity of their intelligence and crimes, they may or may not be shackled in their cells," the young guard explains, though he ponders something briefly and continues. "Now that I think about it, the victims of The Sanguinare face similar imprisonments, considering their bending was taken away."</p><p>Makoto is taken aback slightly, though outwardly he displays intrigue rather than surprise. "You say that so nonchalantly."</p><p>The young guard shakes his head dismissively and smiles. "Well, yeah. It's good that these people are off the streets. And considering they have no bending makes keeping them here easier. Not completely, because they're all still brilliant and cunning, but easier."</p><p>"Don't you ever worry about someone with such power? Sixty years ago, Amon was running rampant throughout Republic City. His abilities caused terror and discourse. My father did the same thing seven years ago. And now there's The Sanguinare." Makoto keeps a worried tone to mask his ulterior motives.</p><p>The young guard gives Makoto a puzzled face before facing forward and focusing on the path. "I don't think it's fair to compare The Sanguinare to Amon or your father."</p><p>"Why not?"</p><p>"Amon and your father used their abilities to fight for a cause they deemed to be just, but in the end, they incited terror and chaos. The Sanguinare seems to break the law for a reason. His cause isn't just something he deemed just. It's something that is just. He's doing something that we as the police could only fathom of accomplishing. He's cleaning the streets. He's keeping people safe. He is serving people worldwide and, in turn, protecting them."</p><p>"But evil never stops," Makoto interjects.</p><p>"Well, I don't think The Sanguinare will either," the young guard concludes. "His mission is clear, and his conviction seems to be sound."</p><p>Makoto smiles behind the guard's back, and he can feel The Sanguinare smiling with him. <em>Finally. Someone who understands,</em> the two think simultaneously.</p><p>Makoto and the guard eventually reach a platinum rose that seems to have been inconspicuously secluded deep in the valley. Two guards stand in front of the metal door as if they were statues watching over the mostly uninhabited land. The young guard holds out a hand in front of Makoto to wait for a second while he goes to talk to the guards. Makoto watches as the guards whisper back and forth, one of the three occasionally looking back at him like their deciding whether he could join a secret club that a group of seven-year-olds created. The young guard returns and gestures toward the door.</p><p>"You can go in now but before you do, I think I should mention two things. One, your talk with Nami will not be monitored. We here at the Steel Magnolia value confidentiality. And two, the guards said that he's apparently been waiting for you."</p><p>The young waterbender's head jolts in the guard's direction, frightened by his words. "For how long?" Makoto asks.</p><p>"Apparently he's just been sitting there, meditating all-day. All he's said was that he was expecting you and he would wait until you got here. He wouldn't say anything else after that."</p><p><em>Surprise, surprise,</em> The Sanguinare says sarcastically.</p><p>Walking past the guard, Makoto struts with conviction in his step and determination radiating around him. "I'll let you know when I'm done talking with him," he says, not looking back at the young guard and gliding past the two standing before the cell door.</p><p>With a deep breath, Makoto touches the cold metal of the cell door. Convincing himself this is for the best, he opens the cell and sees an older man in his late forties sitting peacefully in the center of a cold and oddly pristine stone floor. His beard and hair are long like the tail of an ostrich horse, peppered with messy streaks of silver. He appears younger than he actually is, but the crow's feet around his eyes and the strained look of his hands seem to say otherwise; he's weathering away in the cell. He wears a simple grey shirt and pants, grey shoes on his feet.</p><p>Makoto looks out the door for a brief moment, contemplating whether he should just turn around and leave. He would never have to face his father ever again. The monster would disappear into his cell and stay there forever. Makoto wouldn't have to worry anymore. But if he does leave, he won't ever really be free of the caged monster. The monster is a lingering stench that follows Makoto around and never leaves him be. It will never leave him. Closing the door, Makoto chooses to slay this demon and seal him away for good. Makoto hears the door lock behind him but keeps his eyes on his father, watching his motionless body in silence; Nami's breathing is the only sound that keeps the silence from being deafening to Makoto.</p><p>Without changing his position, Nami speaks through his meditation and says, "In the spirit world. Join me."</p><p>Reluctance festers within Makoto as he furrows his brow. Who knows what his father is capable of in the spirit world? <em>I suppose there's only one way to find out, </em>he thinks to himself. He sits down, assuming a meditation pose. With some struggle, he pushes the potential what/ifs past him and focuses on calming his mind. Telepathically, he shifts the icicle in his earring to a liquid and encapsulates himself in the water. Entering the Spirit World in the same lake from before, Makoto rises from the water and reaches land, standing face to face with his father.</p><p>"Hello, son," Nami says simply.</p><p>"Father," Makoto replies with a deadpan tone.</p><p>"It's been so long. You've grown so much since I've last seen you."</p><p>Sarcastically, Makoto points out, "Your beard has grown a lot since the last time I saw you. How long has it been now? Ten years?"</p><p>"It's been seven years, son, and I know you're fully aware of that," Nami says with a neutral face and annoyed frown. "You needn't be so aloof. I hadn't assumed you'd grow into such a man."</p><p>"And I surely wouldn't have assumed all those years ago that you would've been the man that you were," Makoto responds blankly. "How does it feel, father, to pay for your years' worth of crimes against humanity?"</p><p>"It most certainly has been a valuable time of contemplation and soul-searching. I regret to inform you that your wishes of me to admit to what you view as my 'wrongs' won't be granted to you," Nami states. He begins to pace in front of Makoto, seemingly used to the freedom of the Spirit World. "My time in prison has only reinforced my belief that the race of benders is one of oppression. How could you imagine me to believe otherwise after I've been put under twenty-four-seven surveillance by some of the most accredited metalbenders in the world?"</p><p>"I would have thought you'd imagine they're doing what you were doing: protecting the innocent from an oppressive bender."</p><p>"Ah, but that's why I have you, Koko. You may not know it, but I'm fully aware of your masquerading as a vigilante."</p><p>Makoto furiously bites his lip to keep himself from yelling at his father. He imagines Nami has spent a good amount of time to conjure this manifesto, and there is no reason to stop him. After all, talking with his father is what he came for. Nami continues,</p><p>"The irony of our situations is uncanny."</p><p>"How so?" Makoto inquires, maintaining a calm, poised exterior in the face of fear.</p><p>"I am, was, a bender who used my gifts to strip other benders of their gifts. You, too, are a bender who uses your gifts to strip other benders of their gifts. We both view these other benders as tyrants and oppressors, and yet we are just as guilty as they are."</p><p>"Father, you fail to see that the difference between our situations, despite the shared irony, is the fact that you focused solely on benders. I imprison all people who do wrong, not just benders. Justice isn't exclusive. It doesn't play sides, and neither do I."</p><p>Nami huffs out a laugh through his nose, his nostrils flaring slightly. "I wouldn't have thought you to be so bipartisan."</p><p>"Well," Makoto begins, pushing down the built-up rage within him, "I wouldn't have thought you'd force me to become a weapon, and yet here we are."</p><p>Nami shakes his head incessantly, causing Makoto to tilt his head in confusion. He watches as his father looks toward the sky of the Spirit World. The myriad of clouds paints the blue sky with occasional dashes and blots of white. A sudden breeze blows through the land that pushes against both Makoto and Nami's clothes causing Nami to shiver lightly. Though it would've been missed if Makoto were to apathetically bat an eye, his attention is fully focused on his father.</p><p>"Maybe if you were still a waterbender a cool breeze wouldn't affect you so much," Makoto chides, although his words originate from his complementary half.</p><p>"You really won't leave that night alone, will you? To think it's been seven years and you're still ever so angry about it all." Nami's eyes stare into Makoto's. The young vigilante intensely matches his father's gaze, but watches as his father's face softens as Nami's lips curl into a grin. "No. You aren't mad at me. Not necessarily, anyway. You're mad for the sake of being mad. That can be the only reason why that night has seemingly affected you so much. You play the trauma card, but you don't even really hate me. Just the idea of me."</p><p>Makoto feels a stabbing at his heart as if his father pierced the armored he put up around himself for several years. Nami's right. It had been so long since he's actually been at the man that is Nami Hamasaki. All the wonderful memories of his father, tainted by a single night. And that single night tainted any chance of reconciliation with his father in the subsequent seven years. Ideas can be dangerous, and when tied to such an aggressive emotion, deadly. Makoto's hands shake viciously, not in anguish, but of pure rage. </p><p>"Fuck you!" he screams in pure agony. An agony so powerful that it has taken over his mind and body, traveling down his neck and into his arms, sending them forward with water from the lake taking aim at his father.</p><p>Nami artfully dodges the attack and lunges forward. Makoto raises the ante, using his rage to fuel his waterbending, casting large pillars of water at Nami and summoning ice precipices to create some distance. He's taken aback as he watches his father avoid the columns of liquid while traversing across the ice, like a winged lemur flying gracefully through the branches of the woods. It's not so much that Makoto's shots are off of their target, but Nami seems to remain close to the attacks on purpose. The closing distance incites fear in Makoto. He tries to focus his mind to bloodbend his father. It's as if the fear of knowing his father is nearing and not knowing what will happen is disrupting his focus. And soon, his father is upon him, and Makoto feels Nami's swift hands attack his pressure points. Like a broken twig, Makoto lays upon the ground, his movements restricted. The water he summoned falls quickly to the ground and soaks the grass of the spirit world.</p><p>"Why-why couldn't I bloodbend you? You didn't-"</p><p>"No, I didn't gain my bending back," Nami interrupts with a blank face, deep disgust and disdain present in his gaze. He lowers himself down to Makoto's level and lightly jabs a finger at Makoto's temple. "You merely failed because you let fear invade your mind. Fear obstructs the Earth Chakra, otherwise known as the Chakra of Survival. You fled in your mind and your bending fled with it. A shame. I would have thought you to be stronger, Koko."</p><p>"Never call me that... You don't deserve the luxury!" Makoto lashes out. A glob of spit escapes his mouth and lands directly in his father's beard; he could care less that he's at the hand of his father's mercy. "What do you plan to do now? Lecture me about the virtue of your cause while I lay here. It would most certainly be a fate worse than death."</p><p>"You really are incapable of moving past that night," Nami begins, stroking the saliva out of his beard. "Don't worry. I forgive you of your transgressions-"</p><p>"MY TRANSGRESSIONS?</p><p>"-but you must know, Makoto, that I have grander plans than to just talk at you as you lie there. By the time you regain movement, I will be long gone."</p><p>The young waterbender's eyes widen in terror. "What do you mean?"</p><p>Nami holds his hands behind his back and paces around Makoto with purpose. "I can tell from that look you assumed that I was already in the Spirit World when I told you to join me. And who can blame you for such an assumption? The ability is open to those with such a rich connection to the Spirit World, a connection I've grown to possess during my time in prison. However, I must admit, I lied to you. I feigned my presence in the Spirit World because I knew that you would bring your earring and use it as a physical entrance into the Spirit World."</p><p>"But how did you know that?" Makoto asks, subtly attempting to regain movement.</p><p>"Your mother's visits were very informative on your temperance across these past seven years. I had a hunch that you would bring the earring, along with the betrothal necklace, both of which were of my creation. You're so filled with vengeance and animosity that I knew you would feel compelled to show to my face the promises I made to keep our family together. Well, I must disappoint you, because I have broken that promise once again." Nami stands in front of the lake, looking out upon it with reverence. "I tricked you into creating the spirit portal so I could bring my physical body into the Spirit World and escape that prison."</p><p>"And what do you plan to do? Stay in the Spirit World?" Makoto asks, faintly moving his fingers, but still unable to move his limbs.</p><p>"Oh, not at all." Nami turns back to his son with a smile. "I plan to leave the Spirit World through the portal that leads to the North Pole to reconvene with an old friend. And no need to ask who that might be. You know him. He's only the King of the Earth Kingdom."</p><p>Makoto grits his teeth out of spite for his father. He's deduced by now that his father has been talking with the Earth King in the Spirit World for some time now to plan this out. But to fall so easily into his father's trap? He chides himself internally for the mistake. <em>This will never happen again,</em> he concludes. <em>My father will recompense for his transgressions.</em> Finally able to move an arm, Makoto reaches out in his father's direction and pathetically drags his body along the ground.</p><p>Nami picks his son up from the ground bridal style and carries Makoto over to the lake, holding him over the water. "Here, son, let me make it easier for you. Someone is going to need to inform the police of my disappearance, and you're the perfect scapegoat." And with that, Nami tosses Makoto into the lake, and all Makoto can do is scream through the water as his sinks back from whence he came.</p>
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